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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703616">Give me your hand, I'll guide you through the darkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kheodur/pseuds/Kheodur'>Kheodur</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragonlance - Margaret Weis &amp; Tracy Hickman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Supportive Magius, Test of High Sorcery, mages take care of each other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:08:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kheodur/pseuds/Kheodur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed that there really was no choice – he would have to, he just had to make this damned deal, otherwise everything he had been trying to achieve for so long would go to waste. Raistlin closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. He is ready, that's for sure – he just needs to put the words in the right wording…</p>
<p>Suddenly, he felt a hand gently cover his own - felt it, and almost jerked away, thinking that the archmage was tired of waiting.</p>
<p>«Don't move like that, or you'll fall. It will be unpleasant»</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Magius &amp; Raistlin Majere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Give me your hand, I'll guide you through the darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first time in his life, Raistlin felt such agonizing fear and terror. The archmage's eyes flickered with avarice as Fistandantilus enjoyed his own trap and was already anticipating the denouement. Young Majere lowered his eyes and gripped the hem of his robe, which was mockingly white, with his thin fingers. He felt helpless, and it was the most disgusting feeling in the world. It seemed that there really was no choice – he would have to, he just had to make this damned deal, otherwise everything he had been trying to achieve for so long would go to waste. Here, the lich was confident of victory, and up there, the dark elves would surely, absolutely kill him if he got up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raistlin closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. He is ready, that's for sure – he just needs to put the words in the right wording…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, he felt a hand gently cover his own - felt it, and almost jerked away, thinking that the archmage was tired of waiting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>«Don't move like that, or you'll fall. It will be unpleasant»</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Where the voice of Fistandantilus frightened, made you lose your will, chilled you to the bone, the sudden alien voice sobered you like the water from Lake Crystalmir in autumn, and warmed you like the spring sun. The voice felt young enough – but its lightness couldn't hide the depth it hid behind it. An invisible hand gripped his wrist in approval as Raistlin froze, head down, his face hidden from the archmage's gaze by his long brown hair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>«I can see that your composure is fine, even though your heart is pounding. Reminds me of my Test, though I think you'll be stronger»</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is Test, this is Test - somehow the thought made Raistlin's spirits rise again, though the same truth that Fistandantilus had just revealed to him made him lose heart and start to worry. Suddenly he felt a little foolish – now that the other's touch was keeping him sane, he suddenly realized that the old mage had deliberately done everything to make Raistlin believe him. And especially the fact that without his invaluable help, he can not cope. Righteous anger and indignation flared up inside him – Raistlin hated being manipulated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>«<em>Now the right attitude»</em> - the voice laughed briefly. Raistlin suddenly felt an unaccustomed joy – he was not often praised – and immediately felt embarrassed, almost revealing himself to Fistandantilus, – <em>«What are you going to do now?»</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>«Why should I tell you my intentions?» -  Raistlin's suspicion, which he sometimes confused with prudence, raised its head again – « So I don't need to trust the archmage, but should I trust you, the disembodied voice in my head? You do not think at all that I have my own brains in my head?!»</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He flared up – and immediately felt ashamed of his reaction, realizing with horror that this outburst could cost him his life. But the owner of the voice didn't seem to be angry at all – the voice gave another short laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>«You and I are more and more alike. I wasn't inclined to trust anyone either. But don't worry. Still, we are both mages – we must help each other. Here you go. The rest is up to you»</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A hand gently stroked his knuckles, and suddenly ... something appeared under his palm. Smooth wood, if you can trust your senses, the soft tickle of magic and the light hum of power - Raistlin quietly opened his eyes, surprised to find a small staff in his palm - short, barely two hands long, and completely harmless. But behind the apparent futility, Raistlin sensed something more. Chance. It was as if the three moons had blinked at him again, watching him approvingly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Do you accept my offer?" - the archmage seemed to be losing his patience, but he still thought he was controlling the trap he had set in the heart of the Test. - "Raise up your pretty eyes and look at me, poor bird. You don't have a choice."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Right," - Raistlin took a deep, free breath, as if he were about to jump. The magical concentration burned away the fear in a cold wave, and he gripped the shaft of the strange staff in his palm. Raistlin looked up at the archmage, his eyes blue and cold - "There is no choice."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He throws out his arm with a jerk – the unsightly and short staff grew and changed, stretching out . Raistlin could see Fistandantilus's haughty face stretch in recognition as he stared in awe at the elegant pommel of his staff, the golden dragon's paw gripping the crystal ball tightly. And a short word comes naturally to mind, as if generously given by someone else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>- Shirak!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The staff flashes with a bright light that hits the eyes - the archmage was clearly not ready for this. Relaxed after so many stolen lives and years, Fistandantilus simply did not expect that a small boy who had barely learned the basics would be able to fight back. He realized it too late – even when the young mage threw out his hand, he had to protect himself somehow. But he just didn't expect who would come to protect him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The light didn't do him too much harm – but it scattered his attention, making his cozy hideout once again open to everything that was happening on the Trial. That's what Raistlin wanted. Without waiting for his opponent to recover, he took a deep breath and shouted as loudly as he could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Liam, shoot!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was the sound of the basement lid being pulled back, and arrows whistled, digging into the floorboards and pinning the archmage to the spot. Fistandantilus lunged forward – the fabric of his robe cracking, the air reeking of sepulchral stench and rotting meat, and grabbed Raistlin by the neck, bony fingers digging into his throat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No, boy, you can't get away, you Sly One! "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm not a Sly One! I'm Raistlin Majere! " - Raistlin jerked his arm and plunged the silver dagger Lemuel had given him into the archmage's neck. Fistandantilus wheezed, trying in his last moments to reach the young mage's heart, but suddenly felt a hand on his own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>«</em>
  <em>Stay dead, Fistandantilus. You can't cheat death any more than I can»</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Liam jumped down into the basement and wrinkled his nose at the smell – Raistlin, panting, was unexpectedly glad to see him. Even if Sturm Brightblade himself had suddenly been there, with his hatred of mages, Raistlin would have thrown his arms around him, elated by his victory and terrified to death.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Now it is clear what stank here, " - the dark elf stirred the dead body with the toe of his boot and grimaced, -" Drakart clearly wanted to kill us, the scum. He knew we couldn't just kill a creature like that. No, well, it was necessary to come up with such a thing! Books before the Cataclysm, damn it! If we are elves, then we are also dark, so it means that we are immediately wasted! Bastard, by the Queen, I'll crush his thin neck the next time I meet him. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He kicked the decaying corpse once more and went to the corner where Raistlin was still trying to cough up his own lungs. A ring of bruises from Fistandantilus's deadly grip was reddening on his neck as the dark elf tilted his head to the side and looked more closely.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You took a good hit for us. You're not so useless, human mage Majere, " - Raistlin rasped something sarcastic, but he didn't resist as Liam rubbed something cold into his damaged skin.  - "Can you get out?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't think, " - Raistlin coughed again. His legs were shaking, and a simple spell had suddenly drained him of all his strength. Fear, anger, and rage have squeezed all they can out of him. - "My legs can't hold me up. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"One hassle with you, "- the elf sighed, - "Now I'll give you a lift. Mikah! Help me lift him. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>«</em>
  <em>Well done, little Majere»</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raistlin was slowly coming to his senses, enjoying the fresh air after the musty basement. The dark elves, loudly indignant, ransacked everything in the basement, collecting what they considered valuable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What about this one?" - one of them switched to the elven language. Raistlin turned his head wearily, listening as the warm sensation of someone else's hand returned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>«Don't worry. The most important battle is behind us»</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raistlin closed his eyes, enjoying the rare caress, thinking out of the corner of his mind that if it had been the ever-hectic Caramon, Raistlin would have felt only annoyance and shame. And now he seemed to be safe – a pleasant but rare feeling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Nothing. He helped us not to fall into the trap. We owe him one. So let's just get out of here, " -  Liam commands grimly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>«Never look at the color of the mantle or the dark glory. Sometimes the dark ones are even more honest than the righteous ones»</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raistlin nods wearily and leans gratefully on the outstretched hand. A harmless, nondescript staff, two hands long, hangs from his belt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They lock up Lemuel's house, walk down the road to the woods, and are silent – Raistlin throws his head back and looks at the moons above his head. Now it was as if he stood under the watchful gaze of the trez gods – Lunitari painted his shoulders scarlet, Solinari flashed silver on his sleeves, Nuitari hid in the folds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"We're splitting up here, we haven't seen you, Mage Majere, and you haven't seen us," -  the dark elf glances at Raistlin and, as if overcoming himself, holds out his hand, - " You're the least obnoxious person we've ever met."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm not a human, I'm a mage," -  Raistlin says, gravely shaking the proffered hand and pulling up his hood, shivering in the sharp night wind. The elf stared thoughtfully into his eyes for a while, as if trying to find something, but soon moved away, turned away and went, giving the others a sign to follow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>«</em>
  <em>How are you feeling?»</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Dead tired. I want to sleep. But I still don't know what to bring to the Tower."  - The staff slipped under his fingers again, and Raistlin looked at it and unconsciously squeezed it, unwilling to part.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Raist! There you are! "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Caramon?" - Raistlin rubbed his eyes, hoping he wasn't hallucinating. He was tired, he had seen the worst thing in his life-except for the damned campfire, which he still has nightmares about – and he seemed to be falling ill in the piercing night wind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Raist, let's go back!"- Caramon's eyes were as round as saucers and as blue as the sky above Solace. - "Let's go quickly! You don’t need this Test! "<br/><br/></p>
<p>"Brother, stop yelling," - Raistlin said, rubbing his aching temple.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Then let's go quickly, Raist. Let's go home. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then something happened that should never have happened – Caramon's lips moved in a familiar chant, a magical speech poured out like music. The light flashed over them, silvering their hair and making them look alike. The twins they were.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I just wanted magic to be your" - Caramon frowned - " Your talent. I still have the sword, I don't need it. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If it had been a little earlier, Raistlin would not have forgiven him for such a betrayal. Everything he had worked for would have been ruined in his eyes. But now, tired, exhausted by the fear and joy of victory, Raistlin only shrugged and put his hand on Caramon's wrist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"If you're so afraid to swallow the 'ah' in the second syllable, one day instead of a light, you'll summon some demon from the Abyss and it will still bite off your most precious thing. I'll have to improve your pronunciation if that's how it works. Mages should help each other. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I've always been reprimanded for my accent. They said I'd die because of him one day. Ironically, in my final hours, I was unable to cast a single spell. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The image of Caramon trembled and began to fade softly into the night air under the light of the three moons. Raistlin leaned on the outstretched hand – not the heavy and rough one Caramon had given him, but someone else's, elegant and aristocratically pale. Raistlin rubbed his eyes once more and looked up, meeting the Solamnic blue of his eyes, golden hair falling over an unfamiliar blue robe lined with gold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"The test is almost over. Lean on me, we still have a lot to do. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>"Fistandantilus is defeated, and Raistlin is a welcome member of any of the three Robes," -  Antimodes folded his hands contentedly on his stomach, but then frowned, -  " Although sending Majere at such a young age into the clutches of this parasite is too much even for you, Par-Salian. "</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>"It is necessary to temper his pride," -  the head of the White Lodge frowned, thinking hard about something,-  " The test was even too easy, he never learned anything. I think I'll give him Raelena’s eyes."</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Antimodes opened his mouth for a stern rebuke – eyes that could only see decay, the dead, and destruction were torture, no less  - as Staff of  Magius, carefully kept pushed off from its stand and the heavy knob hit the archmage squarely on the head. Par-Salian sat still for a couple of minutes, then reached out to pick up the artifact and put it back in its place. The staff immediately rolled obligingly under his foot, and if Antimodes hadn't caught his friend, the Lord mage would have already sprawled on the floor.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>"It seems that someone is against such a decision, like me," -  the white mage couldn't help but chuckle, carefully helping Par-Salian to stand up, - " And yet there was something strange about the Test, don't you feel? It was as if a third force had intervened. "</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I think I can even guess who," - Par-Salian sat down heavily on a chair, picking up a pen , - " but Solinari refuses to tell me the secret. "</em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Like the others," - Antimodes returned to his good mood,  - "Justarius had time to raise his voice for Majere to enter like a Red Robe. The balance of all things. And Lunitari is very supportive of him. "</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Like everyone else," - the archmage glanced at his staff and sighed,-  " I was hoping to separate the brothers. Caramon is too attached to Raistlin. He must be himself. "</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>"It is not for us to decide" - Antipolis was completely satisfied with this outcome. Still, Par-Salian sometimes went too far, - "This blade you tried to forge is not in your hands, my friend. "</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Raist?" - Caramon called out to his twin, who was sleeping off the Ordeal. For Kramon, who had never taken magic seriously, the whole thing was a nightmare – and Raistlin, having passed this very Test, immediately fell asleep, curled up under the blankets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You know I don't know anything about magic, Raist. You're offended, aren't you? So you don't wake up, " - the soup in the older twin's hands was completely cold, but the always hungry Caramon was not up to it now, - " It's all of them, not me, Raist! "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I know. "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The voice was low and husky – Raistlin had poked his head out from under the covers, his brown hair silvered with fine silver threads of gray. The blue eyes were sleepy but stern.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Raist! "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raistlin grimaced and reached for the water. Karaman, almost demolishing everything in his path, rushed to the twin, carefully lifting him above the bed. The Mage nodded gratefully- <em>gratefully</em> - and took the glass, emptying it in small gulps.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It seemed to Caramon that in the light of the setting sun, his twin's eyes changed slightly, from the clear sky above Solace to the silvery blue of Sturm's sad gaze.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's me again * hits Par-Salian with a stick*</p>
<p>I believe that they needed to meet two of the mage that passed through all three of the Robes. They have a lot to teach each other.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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